Mama Said
by Yeastbaron
Summary: "Where' you going?" Dallas didn't even bother to look at her, he knew well enough that he wasn't her only safe haven, and he didn't have to deal with her shit any more than the next fool.


**AN; **English isn't my first language so it's bound to be some mistakes here and there, I hope it's not all bad, tho. Feedback is much appreciated. Thank you to my dear, dear, Dreamy for helping me with my English and being a great inspiration!

**_Mama said there'll be days like this_**  
**_There'll be days like this mama said_**

Dallas Winston's head was aching like crazy. _Again._

He wasn't sure what had woken him, if it was the headache or something else. He would've put his money on the headache, considering how it sent shocks of pain through his body every time he tried to move. He groaned.

His face hurt, his head hurt, his ribs hurt, his nose hurt in particular. Not as badly as it did yesterday, not the sharp sting of a freshly-broken nose, but the tired, pulsating, ache that settled in after a day of squinting and face-rubbing. A glimpse of his own face in a mirror earlier that night had confirmed his suspicions; a blotchy blue and purple color had spread like algae from under the inside corners of his eyes to around his nostrils. Not a bad bruise, but a noticeable one nonetheless.

_Fucking Shepard. _

"Dallas? Are you up?" The voice was low and soft, but he made no attempt to disguise the annoyance of being bothered with her right there and then, her voice sounded to him more like a shrill whine.

With some effort Dallas forced open his eyes but lazily shut them again soon after. "What?" His tone was cold and tinged with annoyance.

The room was dark, meaning it was still nighttime or early in the morning, either way she'd better have a darn good reason to poke at him. Sometimes he wondered if that nut job of a girl ever slept at all.

"I was just wondering –" He could feel her hot breath against the back of his neck, companied by a pair of cold, fumbling fingers down his back.

"Shut up and go to sleep" He swatted her away with a painful effort and picked up the stray pillow from the floor, placing it firmly over his head.

He heard a short sigh from behind and sensed a slight movement. She was trying to make him feel badly about ignoring her, he thought, but he didn't think she would be gutsy enough to shake him awake another time.

Sylvia's hand was on his shoulder, and Dallas silently cursed the day he ever laid his eyes on her.

"What do you want?" His tone was acidic enough to stain paper.

"You're cold." She said matter-of-factly.

"It's a fucking cold night." 'idiot' was tacked onto the end of that statement, if unspoken.

For several seconds, Sylvia didn't say anything, and Dallas hoped she'd gone back to sleep again.

"I said I'm sorry," She finally said.

"Go to sleep."

"I meant it."

"I know." He knew, but he didn't care.

Sylvia squeezed Dallas's shoulder, just a little. So gentle he might not have felt it if he wasn't hyper aware of her presence. Dallas shrugged her hand off.

"Don't touch me."

"You're all cold." She said in an almost begging matter.

"I said don't fucking touch me, alright?" Dallas squirmed and threw the pillow and covers away and got off the bed, feeling suddenly trapped in the small room and the pitch black. His head was spinning rapidly from standing up too fast, and he had to hold on to the nightstand for a split second to regain his balance.

"Where' you going?" Dallas didn't even bother to look at her, he knew well enough that he wasn't her only safe haven, and he didn't have to deal with her shit any more than the next fool.

Dallas didn't respond, succumbing now and again to attacks of nausea. He fumbled with the zipper on his jeans, threw on yesterdays dirty shirt and stumbled out of the room.

ooo

Dallas hurled away the already busted beer bottle into the road ahead of him, unfortunately, just as a patrol car drove by him. He pulled over next to Dallas and rolled down the window. Dallas spat on the pavement, cursing himself for not seeing the car earlier, it had caught him completely off guard.

"What are you up to, Winston?" The officer fished out a small flashlight and blinded Dallas carelessly with it.

"What?"

"I saw that bottle, son."

Dallas stopped squinting just long enough to give the man a look to tell him that any question he could have about the bottle was an extremely stupid one. And he sure as hell wasn't no son of his. The policeman snorted.

"What happened to your face?" he asked.

"Your fucking flashlight happened to my face. What's your face's excuse?"

Dallas couldn't see the police officers face enough to be sure, but he was fairly sure he'd managed to at least get a sneer out of him. Which was some small, meaningless victory on its own.

He also couldn't be sure that what he saw next as the flashlight was turned off, a crinkle between the older man's eyebrows, was a strike of sympathy or a token of annoyance when he said "Don't let me catch you wandering around again tonight, you get on home now"

Much to Dallas surprise, the car rolled on by and away from him, leaving him standing alone on the street corner, bathed in the bright yellow light coming off one of the few working streetlights around.

Dallas had been prepared to be dragged down to the station, spending the night in the drunk tank, maybe even getting a small fine for littering. And he sure as hell would've rather wanted that than have a fat, middle-aged prick of a cop feel bad for him.

He didn't need anyone. He didn't need _anyone._

**_My eyes are wide open, but all that I can see is_**  
_**Chapel bells callin' for everyone but me**_  
_**But I don't worry 'cause**_

_**Mama said there'll be days like this**_

_**- The Shirelles**_


End file.
